


In Peaceful Days

by Hollownerox



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 06:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20372104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollownerox/pseuds/Hollownerox
Summary: Byleth wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when he was first offered the job of Professor at Garreg Mach Monastery. But being put in charge of instructing ALL three Houses of the Officer's Academy was certainly not it. A Slice of Life story where our dear teacher struggles with being (almost) everyone's favorite person on campus.





	1. Professor of the Three Houses

O.O.O.O

To say that Byleth's life has taken an odd turn would be somewhat of an understatement. One moment he was introducing his sword point first into a bandit like any other day in his long mercenary career. Then the next he suddenly finds being offered the job of Professor out of the blue by some Archbishop he never heard of. Who lead the supposedly super important Church of Seiros that he also happened to have never heard of.

Normally that wouldn't actually have been that big of an issue for him, believe it or not. After-all there were plenty of things Byleth didn't know or, more accurately, didn't really _bother _to know. But considering his dear father Jeralt knew quite a lot about them, being the former _Captain_ of the (allegedly) renowned Knights of Seiros, you'd think there would have been a passing mention of them at some point.

Regardless, here he was in Garreg Mach, a fortress monastery in the dead center of Fódlan. Where a lot of really important kids come by to learn how to do really important things in their really important nations. He didn't really know why any of the three were particularly important, or why he should even care about why others considered them important, but that's what he was told by Jeralt.

Why that Archbishop lady, whose overly familiar gaze honestly made his skin shiver at times, believed that someone like him (who needed to be taught about these seemingly basic things to begin with) was the best pick for teaching them was also beyond him. But that's the situation he was in, and there wasn't really much choice in the matter judging by how resigned Jeralt seemed about it.

Which was how he found himself a nice secluded corner in the gardens of the monastery, sitting down, and losing himself in his thoughts where he figured he could be all alone. To ponder on the odd course of events that has come his way.

_ **A peculiar situation you have found yourself in, haven't you?** _

Or he would have been alone had it not been for the roommate he finds himself sharing in his cranium. Though he could not see her at the moment, he could still feel the presence of that odd girl So-

_…Soapish?_

_…Snowfish?_

_…Sothis?_

Yes, Sothis that was what it was, the odd pointed-eared girl that was lounging about on some sort of stone throne…. thing. It'd probably be best to remember her name lest he gets an earful (or would it be a mindful?) of ridicule for daring to forget it. The girl who quite literally occupied his mind seemed to be the irritable sort.

"That implies I had some part in getting into this, so it would be more accurate to say the situation found me." He said dryly, not bothering to keep the conversation internalized as he had little concern of being stumbled upon talking to himself. "But I admit, I do find myself a bit confused to say the least."

_ **Hmm, your words do ring true. It is rather strange how eager that woman was to drag you into the fold. From what I can tell you are more than qualified for what they ask from you, imparting your knowledge and experience upon these children would be but child's play. But in terms of suitability they could have done with someone of more…personable disposition. ** _

Byleth wasn't particularly offended by the lowkey jab at his social skills. Just the idea of him having them would probably be enough to make Jeralt and the other mercenaries bust a gut at the absurdity of the picture.

_ **But there is no use wasting time pondering upon that woman's intentions. We will surely grasp onto them at some point or another. But for now, it would be best to simply let this river's flow take you wherever it may lead us and, ahhhh… rest for now…** _

Byleth found the corner of his lips turn slightly upwards at that. Not nearly enough to form a smile, but a look of amusement still managed to grace his features. He could just imagine the green haired girl slouching on her stone seat, waving her hands in front of her mouth as she yawns without shame.

He got up from his seat in the garden, and turned his head towards the sky. The last traces of sunlight slowly fading as night started to creep in. Yes, some rest could do them both some good now. And hopefully tomorrow would have less surprises in store for them.

O.O.O.O

"Would you care to repeat that Claude?" A dignified voice softly rang out in the relative stillness of the monastery's library. The speaker, Edelgard von Hresvelg, gently placed her teacup upon the table at which she sat, raising an eyebrow slightly with an incredulous look.

The Imperial Princess, and future leader of the Adrestian Empire, was not one to wear her heart on her sleeve. But the words that passed through her ears at that moment was enough to let a hint of surprise seep through the normally cool countenance of the Black Eagle's leader. Her white hair swaying as she tilted her head slightly to the side.

Said incredulous look was directed towards one of the other occupants of the room, Claude von Riegan. Heir to the predominant household of the Leicester Alliance, and current leader of the Golden Deer House. His right arm hooked casually around the stile of the chair he was occupying, his other holding the cup of tea in the air as he tipped his chair backwards.

The easygoing air about him could be considered disgraceful for one of his status, were it not for how naturally it clung to him.

"Not sure why it needs repeating, but sure? What harm is there in sharing good news twice?" Claude said, as a hint of bemusement colored his face. Ignoring the slight narrowing of Edelgard's eyes, he continued on. "That merc that helped us out back there, Byleth I think they called him? Well, I overheard that our dear Lady Rhea has decided to make him our new professor!"

The amused tone of voice he used to convey this supposed piece of good news did poorly in hiding the edge of intrigue layered into them. The calculating glimmer in his eyes was not unnoticed by his two other companions in that room, but it was left without mention.

"I don't mean to appear skeptical of your words Claude." The third person in the room spoke up. "But would you don't mind sharing where you learned this piece of information? Bizarre is too light of a word to describe it."

The line of questioning came from Dimitri, Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and leader of the Blue Lions. His blond bangs shifting over as he directed a spear of curiosity towards Claude with his blue eyes. His cup of tea finding itself untouched as his attention became fully focused on the odd news shared.

The sight of the leaders of the three Houses partaking in a discussion while sipping tea was an oddity in of itself. But meetings like this between the three, while not quite enough to be called frequent, was not an altogether uncommon occurrence. To have the heirs of the separate nations of Fódlan casually interacting with one another would normally be begging for a political stir or two. But within the confines of Garreg Mach, as neutral of a ground as you can get in Fódlan, they were merely three students sharing a nighttime drink in the school's library.

These little get togethers formed somewhat naturally as the three would come together to discuss whatever significant developments had occurred, inter-House disputes, or (more often than any of the three would like to admit) just a convenient escape from their own House members. The last of which being the main reason for that day's meeting if only to avoid the constant, albeit well-meaning, pestering about their health in the aftermath of the bandit attack.

"Well I was just strolling around to relax a few hours ago. You know, calm my nerves down after the positive fright I got from that bandit ambush." Claude said, overlooking the blatant looks of doubt at the idea that he endured any sort of fright at all from that event. "And my stroll just _happened_ to lead me near our good old pal Seteth talking, well _ranting_ might be more accurate, about it to someone in the Common Room."

"I see you have yet to drop your hobby of eavesdropping on others Claude." Dimitri said with a heavy sigh, not bothering to hide the disapproval dripping off his words.

Edelgard merely sipped her tea in response as she waited for the brown haired Riegan to continue; not letting either approval or disapproval show on her features.

_As expected from Dimitri, as open of a book as ever on these things. But usually the straight-laced Edelgard would chime in with her colorful criticisms. Hmmm. Could it be she's more interested in the subject than she's letting on?_

Claude thought to himself as he internally selected what pieces he should share, and what parts he would be better off omitting. There were certain juicy bits he'd like to keep to himself for now and use for future baiting. While these discussions between the House leaders were rather cordial in nature, there was little reason to play all the cards he had at hand.

Relatively friendly terms they may be on, they were leaders of rival Houses at the end of the day. Giving just enough to spark their interest, gather their thoughts and intentions in reaction to it, and allow him to calculate his next possible options based on the scraps he can carve off of them.

They don't call him the Master Tactician for nothing after-all. Though even he thought the title was a bit much at times. If only because it's difficult to be a master tactician when everyone thinks you're one based off of self-aggrandizing titles alone.

"Hey now, it's called the _Common _Room, the way I see it, you can't really call it eavesdropping when you're chatting away in there. Can't be entitled to privacy in a non-private space after-all." Claude deflected back with ease, with the nonchalant rebuttal causing Dimitri to respond back with yet another sigh of exasperation. The Prince opting to drop the subject as he knew it would lead to nowhere.

"Poor taste in hobbies aside." Edelgard began as she leaned a touch forward in her seat, betraying her desire to know more. "You were saying Instructor Seteth was quite vocal about this?"

"No doubt about it. The guy was going on and on about how he just couldn't understand why the Archbishop would make such a sudden decision to welcome a stranger she just met into their ranks." Claude nodded in response to her inquiry. "Then went on a whole new tirade about how she decided to make him a professor on the spot to boot, over all the other potentials after that other guy ran-off."

Said other guy being their original candidate for a new professor at the monetary, who quickly ran away and was not seen from again when the bandits assaulted their camp. To be honest none of the three actually knew his name, since he left so meager of an impression in their minds. Merely pouring on the usual flattery directed towards their positions rather than them as individuals when they were first introduced. Little of value was lost in their opinion.

"The Instructor does have approach a good point though?" Dimitri said, as they all shared a look. "The man is second to only the Arch-Bishop in authority here, so for her to make such a decision while completely ignoring his input is nigh unprecedented."

Seteth was a man who could be a bit rough around the edges or, as Claude would put it, somewhat of a hard-ass. But his authority within the Church was unquestionable, with few decisions being made without both him and Rhea coming to consensus on the matter. So, for her to completely bypass him and make this kind of decision on her own…

All three House leaders frowned at the thought that simultaneously passed through their minds. Something was going on in the background here, something that not even the second highest power in the Church was privy to; and it was centered upon the unusual figure that was quickly seeping his presence into their lives.

"Well he is the son of that Jeralt guy, right? Maybe being the kid of a former captain of the Knights of Seiros stacked the deck in his favor?" Claude added, though not even he seemed convinced by his own words.

"No, that doesn't sound right for the Arch-Bishop. While some of her decisions can be deemed questionable, acts based on nepotism has not been one of them.” Edelgard stated firmly, with Dimitri nodding in agreement with her line of thought. “Merely being related to Jeralt would not be enough for her to take such sudden action…"

The two have had numerous disagreements in opinion over their evaluations of the Arch-Bishop, but in this case there was little to debate. Arch-Bishop Rhea was not one to value blood over skill. Her staff at the monastery came from all sorts of backgrounds. With nobles and commoners alike working under her oversight for their deeds rather than who they were connected to.

"Well you know Lady Rhea, she's always been a bit of a tough nut to crack. No point in speculating on it too much at the moment." Claude said as he waved his hand in the air, with the other two nodding in agreement. "We'll probably get to understand the decision more... once he gets put in charge of the Golden Deers."

And with that Claude sipped his cold cup of tea as he dropped yet another bombshell upon the group.

"….I beg your pardon." Edelgard said, as a stiff smile found its way onto her face. The corners not even beginning to reach her eyes. "I don't believe you mentioned Sir Eisner being assigned a specific House to instruct yet?"

"Oh, no he wasn't given a House to teach yet. But come on? What other option was there but mine!" Claude said without a hint of doubt. "Did you see the way he moved from one poor soul to another so naturally? If that isn't Golden Deer material then I don't know what is!"

He could remember the scene clearly even now, astonished by the mercenary who moved like a blur in combat. But it was not just his dexterity in that battle that impressed him. The unusual shade of hair that contrasted so starkly with his supposed father. The sheer quantity of skillsets he put on display that had no right to be at the disposal of a mere mercenary.

And most unnerving of all were his eyes.

Those eyes that seemed to look right through him, peering behind every tightly built wall and secret corner he tried to keep hidden. A look that sent true shivers of fear and unease down his spine the moment it laid upon him, and made him feel as if he were being stripped bare. Yes, this bundle of secrets that called itself Byleth was his to unravel, and he would not give up the opportunity to Dimitri, Edelgard, or anyone else.

"You're certainly one to get ahead of yourself Claude." Dimitri said coolly. "Your eyes could do with some clearing up, because I cannot fathom how one can look at that man and not see how suitable he is to guide the Blue Lions to perfection. Though he may not be a Knight, his swordplay would be of great benefit for us who aspire to not sully the Kingdom's good name."

The sight of Byleth's sword cutting from one foe to the next, trailing through each enemy as if it were cutting through naught but water stuck to him. But what truly remained in his mind's eye was that face. It was a face of stone, a face of unbelievable composure, as if the exchange of death that man was partaking in was trivial.

It was a sight that should have terrified him, for such coldblooded killing was the antithesis of his ideals, yet somehow those cold eyes only drew him in further. A heart unburdened by the temptation of emotion in the fires of conflict, that was what his House, no… what _**he **_needed.

He could not let these two have that before him. He would not allow such an opportunity to grow to go to waste. For the safety of his friends, for the future of his rule, and for himself and his _true _goal. Not Claude, not even Edelgard would be allowed to take this from him.

"You both tell such amusing jokes with such straight faces. But come now you two, the time for jests is over." Edelgard said, her teacup now sitting on the table completely ignored as she spoke with a voice brimming with self-confidence. "Sir Eisner certainly displayed impressive grace and skill in the blade in that scuffle. But what shone true was his capability to direct us on the plain of battle so efficiently despite only just having met us. Surely the Black Eagle House have the most to gain from such talent in command?"

To say the three were surprised at the way he was able to so easily conduct them would be putting it lightly. While they always said to others that their status should be ignored few ever truly took those words to heart. There was always an unspoken barrier between them and others that few dared to even attempt to breach. And Edelgard in particular always felt that sting as she was placed upon a pedestal she had no desire to occupy.

But _he _was different somehow. Whether through ignorance of their status or even indifference, he did not seem to even take it into account and had no qualms about giving them orders. Speaking to them on the plain of battle as equal individuals, and not merely as important pieces on the chessboard. If that were not enough, the insight he had on the battlefield was simply astounding. It was as if he had a bird's eye-view, capable of discerning enemy positions and what best way to approach them.

Then there was that moment where he protected her from the bandit's leader. Though she had little fear of danger in that moment, the foresight needed to parry that attack was unbelievable. It was as if he knew it was going to happen, and exactly where the foe intended to strike. To respond so quickly and with enough force to fling the man aside was simply riveting.

But what truly fueled Edelgard's desire to have this man as her teacher was not for those practical reasons. No, for what felt like the first time in her life she was basing this decision purely on emotion. Like a moth to a flame, she couldn't help but find her attention fixing itself upon the individual known as Byleth Eisner.

From the moment she laid eyes upon him an odd sense of kinship sprang up in her that refused to dismiss itself. An itch that simply refused to be scratched no matter how much she tried to ignore it. The more she tried to understand the unusual surge of familiarity, the more its true natural escaped her grasp.

She needed to know what exactly was connecting her to this man, and the only way she could understand this mystery was having him as her instructor. She was as sure of that fact, as sure as she was in the ambitions that drove her forwards.

The air of cordiality was now gone, replaced by the stillness of tension as the three individuals eyed each other warily. The time for friendly chitchat was now over, and it was clear there could only be war ahead. The three were not willing to give in, not on this, and each were preparing their next move.

Claude, ever the schemer, was the first to do so. His hand reaching into his sleeve as he pulled out—

O.O.O.O

To say that Seteth was having a somewhat stressful morning would be like akin to saying that the ocean was somewhat wet. He had spent much of the previous night venting his frustrations to the newly arrived Jeralt concerning the imprudent appointment of the man's son. But to his surprise the man himself largely agreed with his assessment, also voicing his annoyance at this impromptu decision.

It was oddly cathartic to be able to share his burdens with the former Captain, and he was overjoyed to have someone listen to his complaints about the recent indignities he experienced.

The whole mess was just one layer of frustration piled upon another. As much as he adored Lady Rhea and held her to the highest possible esteem that any one person could. He simply could not decipher what thoughts were running through her mind in that moment she welcomed this Byleth into their ranks. And without even bothering to ask him for his thoughts on the matter before coming to her decision!

Hell, he couldn't even direct too much of his grievances towards the object of his complaints. Byleth himself seemed just as confounded as he was when Lady Rhea announced to them that he was to be made the new Professor! Sure, he certainly did make a good impression given his deed of protecting the students from those repugnant bandits. But just how good of an impression did he make to be practically _engulfed _in Lady Rhea's good graces almost instantly?

He didn't like it, no he didn't like it one bit.

But that was yesterday, after Jeralt graciously helped him unload the troubles he kept close to his chest, he was sure that a good night of sleep would have him prepared for whatever surprises were in store for his future.

…He wasn't quite prepared for one such surprise to slam into him but one hour after his waking.

"So, allow me to make one thing clear before we begin." Seteth said, his fingers pressing against his temple as he tried to stem off the encroaching headache. His dry voice directed to the three students awkwardly sitting in the three chairs positioned in front of his desk. "I am not having the best of days. One surprise after another has stumbled upon my lap, and my capability of dealing with said surprises has not been as productive as I would like them to be."

He paused to let the words sink in for a moment, before firmly grasping the report that lay on his desk with his free hand.

"Regardless, I woke up today with the hope that things would calm down from the excitement of yesterday." He continued on.

Another pause. He slowly let a breath out, and then started directing a glare at the disheveled students sitting before him.

"So, imagine my _surprise_ when Tomas barges into my chambers and informs me that not only have three students decided to have an impromptu duel in the midst of his library. But those three students were the _esteemed_ leaders of our very own three Houses. How. Very. Exciting." Seteth couldn't help but spit out those last three words in exasperation. "Well, I say duel, but it would appear the term _brawl_ would be more apt would it not?"

The students had the dignity to look embarrassed in response to that.

"Yeah, that sounds about right!"

…Or at least two of the three students had the dignity to be embarrassed at least.

"Well now, you seem to be awfully chipper Sir Riegan, for someone who apparently-" Seteth stopped for a moment to read the report in his hand, raising his eyebrow as he scanned the words on the page. "-got his head introduced face first into a bookshelf."

The owner of said mildly bruised face merely grinned in response as he laid back in the leftmost seat. While the occupant in the middle, Dimitri (who also seemed to be trying to stave off a headache of his own in vain), took a wary glance at his neighbor. Edelgard noticed the glance, and avoided eye-contact while her face flushed a bit in what might have been shame.

"Well now, that is certainly unexpected." Seteth blinked, his initial assumption being that the physical altercation was largely between Claude and Dimitri, due to them sporting the most visible (albeit minor) injuries. "I take that to mean it was the Lady of Hresvelg who was responsible for the… bookshelf introduction?"

"Well that is to say, umm, yes instructor that is unfortunately the case." Edelgard replied slowly at first, but freely owned up to the assertion with her usual dignified voice.

"May I ask why?" Seteth asked, his curiosity piqued in spite of himself.

"I must clarify that there wasn't truly a desire for any of us to engage in a physical altercation." Edelgard said, after lightly coughing to clear her throat. "We had every intention to resolve our dispute through reasoned debate."

"So, what exactly occurred to turn this dispute from a "reasoned debate" into an outright melee?" Seteth asked with skepticism.

There was a brief moment of silence as the girl of Hresvelg had to take a moment to maintain her composure.

"…He pulled a r—out of his—" Edelgard murmured out quietly in response, trying her damndest not to look directly at him.

"He pulled a what out of where?" Seteth asked, not being able to fully make out the mumbled words.

Dimitri sighed, and sat upright glowering at his right-side neighbor as he did so.

"He pulled a rat out of his sleeve Instructor." Dimitri clarified in ill-humor.

Seteth blinked once more at that. He did not think his eyebrow could raise further up than it already had, but this latest piece of the puzzle somehow made him succeed at doing so.

"A _rat_ you say." Doubt coated his words as he tried to come to grasp with what he just heard.

"Yes Instructor, the "altercation" occurred because Claude, our great _Master Tactician_, thought the best way win our dispute was to pull out a rat from his sleeve and throw it in Edelgard's direction. The rodent waking upon impact and resulting in Edelgard…"

He paused for a moment to consider the right words to describe the absolute state of panic that came about from Claude's poorly thought out prank.

"…Becoming alarmed at its sudden presence." He finished diplomatically, not wanting to risk incurring the wrath of the already displeased Princess.

He already had enough of a headache to deal with as it was, thank you very much. And he wasn't even the one who got his head pushed into hard furniture.

His memory was still slightly groggy from the events of the night before, but even then he still recalled the look of horror that dawned upon Edelgard's features the moment she realized just what it was Claude had pulled out of his sleeve at that moment. Worse still was the shriek of terror that came when said object of horror was carelessly tossed at her. It was at that moment that the Imperial Princess' fight or flight instincts kicked in.

With a heavy emphasis on the _fight _part of it.

The resulting bruises upon both him and Claude's bodies came about as a direct result of trying to calm the panicked girl down. It wasn't nearly as easy as either of them thought it would be. With the girl's slim figure belying a startlingly amount of strength.

At the very least he had the satisfaction of having the sight of Claude's smug face shoved between the bookcase shelves imprinted in his mind. That almost made up for the whole ordeal.

Almost.

Seteth soaked in the information Dimitri just provided him with a serious expression. Or as serious of one as he could convincingly put up at that moment, before redirecting his attention towards the apparent perpetrator of this fiasco.

"Would you mind me asking why exactly you keep a rodent hidden within your sleeves?" Seteth couldn't help but ask the question that was unspoken but lingered on everyone else's minds.

The little king shrugged his shoulders at that.

"It was for emergencies." He stated confidently, as if it were just common sense.

There was yet another awkward period of silence that followed that response.

"What in the Goddess' name sort of emergency would need you to keep a _sedated rat_ on your person?" Dimitri asked, after it was clear no one else would ask the question in his stead.

"The Imperial kind, obviously." Claude said with yet another shrug of his shoulders, the answer earning him two _very _hostile glares from the other two students.

_Oh, by the Goddess, if I don't stop this now they are going to bring ruin to my office with another brawl. _

Seteth thought to himself, coughing to get the three's attention upon him, and hopefully _not _consider making a mess out of his work space.

"Well, now that we have the details of the altercation settled for now. Would one of you mind detailing what caused this dispute in the first place?" He asked, half from a genuine desire to know, and half to distract them from picking up from where they left off the night before.

"Ah, yes, I would be more than happy to elaborate on that instructor." Dimitri visibly brightened upon the change of subject. "You see, the news that Sir Eisner is to become one of our professors happened to have reached our ears. And we couldn't help but debate over whose House was most suitable for his tutelage."

In contrast to Dimitri's invigorated demeanor, Seteth thoughts turned sour as the words were spoken.

_And once more things circle back to _ ** _him_ ** _._

Just what was sort of sorcery did he pull to make such an impression on everyone!? Was he the only one that thought the fixation on this dull stranger (commendable hair color not withstanding) was strange!?

The twitch in his eye in response to the name was left unnoticed as the three students dismissed their previously embarrassed countenances, and engaged in enlivened discussion. The three bringing up the various ways they thought the new professor could bring to the table to their respective Houses, and countering the arguments of the others. The heated debate only contributing more to Seteth's ever growing confusion on the individual that seemed to be at the center of all his recent troubles.

"Well be that as it may." He began, as he once more put aside his irritation, promising himself to book another session with Jeralt later. "While your enthusiasm is certainly being considered, which House our new professor will be assigned to was not up to either me or Lady Rhea to begin with. So, we are not the ones you should be trying to convince."

All heads turned to directly state at the man behind the desk, with the aura of the group seeming to scream out "What the hell are you talking about?"

Seteth sighed as he knew what he would say next would cause yet another bout of chaos to begin. But at the very least he wouldn't have to be the one forced to deal with it this time. Silver linings and all that.

"Due to the unusual circumstances of his appointment and the Arch-Bishop desiring to impart upon him a certain level of…" Seteth barely suppressed the grimace that threatened to creep onto his face. "…Agency in his role. It was decided that Sir Byleth would have the option of personally choosing which House he would like to tutor."

There was yet another period of silence that followed his announcement. And as he saw the look of realization at his implication start to glimmer in the eyes of the House leaders. He let himself indulge in just a _pinch_ of sadistic pleasure knowing what will soon befall the object of his recent frustrations.

It was most certainly petty of him, but he was all too willing to take what he could get.

"Ah, well would you look at the time." Edelgard suddenly stood up from her seat, a rather convincing look of apology on her features. "It would seem as though I have somewhere to be at the moment. My sincere apologies for the mishap of the previous night Instructor, and I thank you for your understanding. But I shall be taking my leave now."

"What a coincidence!" Dimitri cried out as he also got up from his chair, interrupting what would have been her swift departure from the office. "I myself had forgotten a prior commitment I had to engage in. It would appear as though I too must say farewell."

As expected the sound of a seat scraping backwards once more made itself known in the room as Claude also got up from his respective seat.

"Now, now you two, why the rush? How about we all just relax a bit and take our time to look—" The friendly tone of voice giving way to a more ominous ring as he slowly let one hand inch ever closer to the sleeve of his shirt…

"**_Don't _**you even think about it." Echoed the voices of the three other persons in the room in tandem, as they glared at the smirking leader of the Golden Deers.

"Well, it was worth a try." He said as he threw up his hands. But before he could pull out his plan B that he had hidden away, another voice made itself known in the room.

"That won't be necessary." The soft words spread itself like silk upon the four people in the room, its gentleness simultaneously carrying an undeniable aura of authority with them.

Seteth sprang up in his seat as he looked at the individual who made her presence felt in the room. The gentle _tip taps _of her heels betraying her movements as she opened the door and let herself in.

"L-Lady Rhea!" Seteth's words stumbled out as the Arch-Bishop walked in. "What brings you here?"

She gave him a sincere smile in response to his surprised demeanor, and her rosy lips opened to answer him—

O.O.O.O

"Sooo, does anyone know what the hell is going on right now?" Caspar asked as he voiced the question that no one else seemed to want to say aloud. "Cause, I'm not sure about the rest of you, but I don't got a clue."

"We are just about as in the dark as you I'm afraid" Ingrid answered, her brows displaying her own confusion at their current situation. The daughter of the Galatea family fiddling with the pencil in between her fingers idly to pass the time.

"Nice, so it looks like we're all confused peas, sharing the same confused pod." Hilda exclaimed from the opposite end of the room, her pigtails swaying back in forth as she shifted her head side to side in boredom.

"Peas? I do not see how we are like peas at all? And are we not in the Cardinal’s Room, and not a pod?" Petra questioned her from her position.

"Uh, no what I mean is that we're, you know, in the same boat." Hilda tried to explain.

"There is now a boat? I thought we were all in a pod?" Petra asked, her confusion only growing worse.

"Umm…" Hilda's face scrunched up in consternation, as she struggled to find the right words to convey her meaning.

"Petra dear, it's an expression to say that we're all experiencing the same thing, that's all." Dorothea chimed in to prevent the conversation from spiraling further "Sorry about that Hilda, she's gotten used to our language, but figures of speech are still something that she has a hard time with."

"Ah, it's no big deal." The pink haired girl nodded in understanding, relieved at Dorothea coming to her rescue.

"If you are all done with your babbling, perhaps we should get back to Caspar's original line of questioning?" A dark voice cut-in sharply. All eyes turned to Hubert von Vestra, who sat with his arms crossed, his ever-sour expression grimacing in annoyance. "It is not every day that we find ourselves in this room, nor with all_ three_ Houses of our school represented. I would personally like to get to the bottom of this."

While somewhat crudely put, the dark-haired individual expressed a good point. Eight from the Black Eagles, eight from the Blue Lions, and eight from the Golden Deers. All 24 of the students from Garreg Mach's esteemed Officer's Academy found themselves situated together in the Cardinal’s Room rather than their respective classrooms.

"Well, uh, I got an idea." The rough voice of Raphael echoed through the room. "Maybe we're all here for, you know, class?"

Felix sighed at that and was about to respond with his typical bluntness, but paused before doing so. The Cardinal’s Room, usually setup with a long table to accommodate the numerous monastery officials was nowhere in sight, instead replaced by the 24 desks and chairs that the students found themselves occupying. A long desk that he did not recall being there previously was situated in the space that the students found themselves facing, with a long chalkboard occupying the wall behind it.

It really did seem like the room was converted to be a large classroom for them. With the rest of the students catching onto the changes that were made.

"Finally!" Claude's tired voice cried out "Someone figures out the obvious! Points to you Raphael, always knew you had it in you." Clearly happy that a member of his House was able to discern the self-evident.

The leader of the Golden Deers pointed a look towards the head of the Blue Lions, who answered him in an equally tired manner.

"Indeed" Dimitri replied, clearly unamused by how long it took for someone to notice the arrangement. "It seems like situational awareness is yet another subject our dear Professor could instruct us on."

It became clear to all in the room that their respective House Leaders were privy to the details they themselves were ignorant of at this point.

"Lady Edelgard?" Hubert asked his charge who sat in the seat beside him.

A displeased sigh escaped her lips as her eyes closed in disquiet. If Hubert didn't know any better he would have sworn that the object of his loyalty was actually _sulking _at that moment.

"Yes, Hubert, I am well-aware of what the current arrangement is." She stated tersely. "Just be patient and all should be made clear."

"Wow, someone seems to be in a mood." Hilda exclaimed with curiosity.

"Heh, don't mind her too much. She's just upset she didn't get first dibs like she wanted." Claude said with an all too amused smile. The accurate statement leading to Edelgard trying to burn a hole into his skull with her eyes. "But she's right, just wait for a bit and someone will be dropping by soon to explain what's up"

As if on cue, the doors to the conference room opened up to reveal Hanneman and Manuela. The monocle wearing man and the fur robbed physician striding in and taking their places at the front of the room.

"Good afternoon my dear students. Apologies for the wait, but there were some last-minute discussions that needed to be had that delayed us." Hanneman explained, the former Empire noble tilting his head down slightly in apology.

"As I'm sure you all would have noticed by now, the current classroom arrangement is not exactly what we consider the standard state of affairs. However due to certain extenuating circumstances, this Officer's Academy will be doing things a bit differently this year."

Hanneman stepped back and gestured for Manuela to continue from where he left off. Nodding in return, she stepped forward, making sure not to betray her own doubts on the news she was conveying to the class.

"Unlike previous years where each House would be assigned their own Professor to overseer the teaching of them independently from one another, this time they will be merged into one body. With a single professor taking charge of the tutoring, while Hanneman and myself will be acting in supporting roles should our specialties be deemed necessary."

Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude simply nodded along as they were already made aware of the new class style from Rhea's sudden visit to Seteth's office. But for the rest of the students the news came as a shock to them.

"Halt a moment Professor Hanneman! Lorenz asked, his eyes wide at the implications filling his mind. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but does this not mean that the Three Houses are being merged into one?"

It was not like the students were particularly insistent on the segregation of the Houses, but to have the longstanding tradition done away with practically overnight was something that was difficult to even fathom.

"Oh, nothing of the sort!" Hanneman quickly responded, waving his hands in a gesture of denial. "No, for all intents and purposes the Three Houses are still very much independent from one another. But due to certain special interests, as well as some rather unexpected amount of demand for our new professor, has led to a compromise of sorts that had to be made."

Hanneman would have loved to give more details if he had anymore to give. But it wasn't until the aforementioned meeting that delayed them did he and Manuela even learn about the new teaching arrangements to begin with.

It didn't particularly bother him all that much frankly. After-all, the less time he had to dedicate teaching in the classroom meant more time he could devote to his main passion of Crest research. But nonetheless, the short notice of the change blindsided both him and Manuela to say the least.

"_New_ professor? I thought Jeritza was going to be our new teacher?" Caspar spoke up in response to the statement.

"Ah yes, I suppose we have yet to formally introduce our newest addition to the monastery's staff" Hanneman turned his head to the doorway, and made a "come on in" gesture with his hand.

The clacking sound of boots rang out as a figure entered from the doorway. Long black sleeves trailed behind him, as he made his way to the front of the room. One hand grasping a binder full of paperwork, whilst the other gently laid sat upon the hilt of the sword holstered at his hip. As he set down the binder upon the desk with a soft thud, he turned his head towards the students, the bangs of his dark blue hair swaying gently to the motion.

"Good afternoon, my name is Byleth." He stated curtly as his eyes went from left to right to survey his suddenly silent audience. Surprise. Curiosity. Trepidation. Indifference. The variety of emotions he could gleam from the students before him was as diverse of a makeup as the students themselves. "From this moment on I will be your primary professor, instructing you all until the end of the school year. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He bowed his head slightly, his face unchanging from the stony blank slate that had always been etched on his features. Raising it up after a brief moment he then said:

"Are there any questions?"

And with that the room exploded in a chorus of overlapping voices at once, as the students tried to get their input heard over all the others.

"Seriously! _You're _going to be our Professor!" The blue haired second son of House Bergliez household shouted out in glee.

"Heh, so he's the renowned mercenary? I can take him easily." A voice tinged with arrogance muttered among the cacophony.

"You think you can take anyone on Felix. Didn't you listen to his Highness? If he's half as good as the Prince says he is, then you're going to get your butt flat on the ground in no time." Annette replied to her sullen neighbor

"If he's even a _quarter_ as good as that Boar says he is then it'll make it all the more worth it." Felix scoffed in response. "That monster was clearly embellishing the story."

"I know he's Captain Jeralt's kid and all, but isn't he a bit on the young side to be teaching us?" Leonie asked in concern.

"His Highness assured those within his House of his capabilities. If he has his approval, then the man's age is of no consequence." Dedue stated with certainty.

_BANG!_

The distinct sound of a pair of palms slamming upon a desk echoed in the room.

"Can you all quiet down!" Lysithea cried out, ignoring the self-inflicted stinging sensation in her now red hands. "I'm sure our new Professor expects _some_ level of maturity here!"

"Zzzzz"

The young Ordelia paused at that, before turning her head in genuine astonishment at the source of the unexpected sound.

"…How is he able to sleep with all this racket?"

"With _far _too little ease." Hubert replied bitterly as he glared down at the sleeping Lindhart that sat nearby him.

"Srnnk." Was the only response from the slumbering youth.

"Please, my friends! I know our new professor is cause for much excitement, but as esteemed members of the Officer's Academy we must have order!" Ferdinand's noble voice carried true across the room, and was nobly ignored by everyone else.

"I'm truly sorry Professor. I can't speak for the rest, but I assure you my House members are not usually this…rowdy." Edelgard said with sincerity as an apologetic look graced her features.

"Really? Cause last I checked this seemed to be the norm for your bundles of sunshine!" Claude said, as his own eyes glanced at the seemingly catatonic visage of Bernadetta in amusement.

The poor girl passing out as soon as she realized she had to attend class with this many people at once for the rest of the year.

Byleth's face looked impassive as always, but internally he was completely flabbergasted at the scene of Chaos that spontaneously erupted in the classroom. The laughter of his far too easily amused companion resounding deep in his skull.

_It is going to be a long year isn't it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory "Long time reader, first time poster" comment for this site. Been writing as a hobby for some time now, but this story is my first foray back into publishing some stuff on the web. Just for fun of course. 
> 
> This first chapter ended up being a lot more long winded than it was initially intended to be. But it just sort of worked out that way when I realized I needed to find some way half-assed justification for why Byleth would be assigned to teach all 3 Houses at once.
> 
> This story isn't a serious take on the "What if Byleth taught all 3 Classes?" question, rather the premise was an excuse to write a fairly light hearted collection of stories. Roughly going in a linear direction in the timeline, but more meant to be fun to read after the soulcrushing that is the actual Three Houses story. So while it will occasionally flow from humorous to more character study like chapters, it is written to be a Slice of Life sort of story at the end of the day.
> 
> In regards to things like spoilers, I'm still working on the details with that note. It's far too early in the game's lifecycle to assume everyone knows everything, especially with the multiple routes and all. So far now I'm having characters make very vague references to possible spoiler material. That should be understandable for those who know that stuff to get the joke, but obscure enough that it will fly over the head of those unaware. That policy might change in the future, but for now I'm sticking with it.
> 
> Anywho, hope you enjoyed this mess of a first chapter. And I'll see you in the next in case you stick around.


	2. The Blade Breaker's Consultation I

O.O.O.O

Jeralt had been many things in his long life before his career as a mercenary. The Blade Breaker in far too many eyes. The Captain of the Knights of Seiros for far too long a time. A husband for far too short of a time…

Suffice to say he has had a great deal of experience in his lifetime, has played a great many roles to a great many people. A leader to most, a friend to some, and a father to one.

“Then right as I’m about to leave my room, Tomas comes clamoring over to me about the mess some students made in _his_ library!”

But he wasn’t quite prepared to add _glorified therapist_ onto that list so soon after his reluctant return to Garreg Mach.

“Hmm, I see.” Jeralt said, as he gave a firm nod of his head in response to his exasperated visitor.

“Not only that, but the delinquents were from our _respectable_ Officer’s Academy!”

“Ohhh...” Jeralt murmured out in what sounded like interest. But if one were to pay attention then the slightly glazed over look in his eyes would have betrayed him.

“If that were not enough, those delinquents happened to be the House leaders of all things!”

“Ah, yes… I see that is unexpected…” Jeralt half-heartedly said, before pausing as his mind took a moment to register what he actually heard. He blinked as a small jolt of disbelief ran through him, and turned to directly face his guest. “You mind running that by me again?”

Said guest was an old acquaintance of his. Seteth was an Instructor at Garreg Mach and he was considered the one of the highest authorities in its hallowed halls. Second only to Lady Rhea herself. A man who valued order above anything else, with exception to certain persons named either Rhea or Flayn notwithstanding.

The green haired man was currently sitting in a chair situated in front of the Captain’s desk, with Jeralt himself sitting in a well-worn office chair. The current Captain of the Knights of Seiros was indisposed at the moment, having a leave of absence after being worn down from the stresses of the role. Jeralt couldn’t blame him, congratulating the lucky bastard while simultaneously cursing him for paving the way for him to temporarily (he hoped) fulfill the role.

With that responsibility thrust upon him, he commandeered the old Captain’s quarters for his personal use for the current arrangement. Prepared to use it for the inevitable dry meetings and mission planning to come.

He wasn’t quite prepared for it to become a consultation office of all things.

“Well now, it is quite unheard of for you to need words repeated for you Jeralt.” Seteth mused as he eyed the former Captain. “Could it be old age is catching up to you at long last? Or were you merely not paying enough attention?”

_Ah crap. _Jeralt thought. _He’s starting to catch on._

“Of course, not Seteth, just thought what you said was so absurd that I must have heard you wrong or something.” Jeralt said out loud. Knowing that the stern-faced man was merely jesting with his half accurate accusations. “Who could _ever _let anything you say go left unheard?”

It isn’t like he disliked Seteth at all, far from it, the man deserved his position and more in the mercenary’s eyes. Especially with all the crap he’s been through in his time walking this forsaken globe.

But the man took things a bit too seriously at times. Or really _all _the time. To the point where he’d wager that the pole stuck up his ass could be used to measure the square footage of Garreg Mach in record time.

Which is exactly why when Seteth waltzed over to his room insisting for him to basically be a volunteer therapist for him Jeralt resorted to his ace in the hole for these situations:

The _Byleth Maneuver_. The ultimate means of ignoring someone while paying _just _enough attention to make it seem like you were actually listening to them.

His son was a man of many talents, but by the Goddess was social interactions just not his forte. If he wasn’t putting the fear of the Goddess (or more accurately, fear of _him)_ into his allies on the battlefield, he was left unnerving them off of it with his seemingly emotionless demeanor.

But there was inevitably going to be situations where some poor soul was either brave, or stupid, enough to try to chitchat with him.

Thus, the Byleth Maneuver was born. A confident nod here, a vague but relevant mutter in reply there, and viola! You too could convincingly let the ramblings of another go in one ear, and out the other.

It was truly a godsend for mercenaries when dealing with the more colorful clients, and he would bet a fair sum that it was one of the reasons why his son (not that many were aware of that bit) was practically worshipped in some merc circles.

The real trick was to listen _just _enough while zoning out in case the other party got suspicious. Not to mention having to maintain eye-contact while making sure your eyes weren’t too glossed over. He hadn’t quite mastered that part of it yet, but he doubted anyone in the world could match his kid in that regard. For better or for worse he really was the most unreadable person he knew.

But for the moment, he disengaged from his well-rehearsed employment of the maneuver, and seriously began to engage in conversation with the earnest instructor.

“The House leaders throwing down in the library huh?” Jeralt said as he rubbed his chin, repeating the piece of info that his ears managed to catch. “Not every day you hear those sorts of noble brats getting into that kind of trouble.”

“Indeed.” Seteth nodded sagely. “While I am not at liberty to provide you the specifics to preserve the, shall we say, _dignity_ of a certain individual in particular. Suffice to say the three were suitably ashamed of their actions over such a petty dispute.”

Jeralt couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

“Alright, two of the three were suitably ashamed.” Seteth begrudgingly admitted to the Blade Breaker. The unspecified House Leader’s name needing no mention despite the short time the latter was acquainted with the trio.

“So, what were the brats even fighting over to begin with?” Jeralt asked, curiosity piqued despite himself. It wasn’t often that you had such important kids at the Academy at once, it was even rarer to hear them going at it considering their _polite _upbringings.

Seteth’s face visibly crinkled up and darkened at the inquiry, and at once Jeralt knew he shouldn’t have asked that question.

“Funny you should ask that my friend.” Seteth said, with a calm tone that contrasted harshly against the bulging vein on his temple. “Oddly enough, it would appear as though the subject of their ill-advised dispute just so happens to be _your son_.”

_Ah crap. _Jeralt thought for the second time that day.

If this keeps up he would be the one needing to find someone to play therapist with.

“That’s uh, well, a surprise.” Jeralt awkwardly coughed into his fist. “I didn’t really think the kid would be that popular with the brats. He isn’t the sociable sort to say the least.”

He was being completely honest about that too. The sight of seeing those three kids huddle around his boy and argue about who should get him first was alien to him. With the poor kid looking completely bewildered at the attention; not that anyone but Jeralt would have correctly interpreted his blank look as such. It would have ended up with him on the floor laughing. If he wasn’t so peeved at Alois dragging him kicking and screaming back to the monastery that is.

“It seems as though you don’t know your son as well as you think you do then!” Seteth said sourly. “The young man has proven himself to be a positive _fiend_.”

The comment sent off a flicker of irritation deep in Jeralt, that he just barely managed to suppress. His slight amusement fading away at the insult that hit far too close to home for his taste.

“And _what_ exactly makes you say that?” Jeralt managed to say, voice low with subdued annoyance.

“_What _you say!” Seteth shouted out, clearly not noticing the edge of animosity that highlighted his companions voice. “I’ll tell you _what _he did to make me say this!”

Seteth then looked Jeralt straight in the eyes, and said with the most grim expression he had ever seen on the man in the time he had known him.

“He gifted Flayn a fish.” Seteth spat out.

“A _fish_.” Jeralt deadpanned, his face naturally morphing into the best Byleth impression he had ever done in his life.

“Yes, Jeralt my friend.” Seteth nodding. “Your son had the audacity to gift Flayn. **With. A. Fish.**”

The room was filled with silence at that. With the two experienced men not uttering a sound after the punctuated words finished echoing in the enclosed space.

Jeralt took a moment to flip the page of the notebook he had left open upon his desk. Previously being marked only with scribbles to give the appearance that he was taking serious notes of his impromptu therapy session. But now on the fresh page he made a quick note of that comment to unpack for the inevitable future session. 

Once he was finished jotting down his quick reminder, he raised his head up to Seteth.

“So, how does my son gifting Flayn a little gilled animal equate him to being a “_fiend”_ in your eyes?” Jeralt questioned, his face still stone-faced as he made his query.

“It’s a fish, Jeralt! A fish!” Seteth said as if the word “fish” alone was self-explanatory enough. “Grabbing a fishing rod, and hooking one of them to gift to her is practically fli-flir…!”

Seteth stopped, as if even saying the next word would make his mouth combust into flames from uttering them.

“Flir?” Jeralt pushed. Truly lost at where exactly his old acquaintance was going with this rant.

“**_FLIRTING_!” **Seteh shouted out, standing as he did with his fist clenched and raised towards the ceiling. The sudden exclamation making Jeralt jump a bit in his seat.

“That impertinent youngster you call a son has the audacity to **_dare_** flirt with my Flayn!”

Another soundless void filled the air followed that proclamation. With Seteth’s heaving breaths being the only noise to break the stillness.

After his righteous rage simmered down somewhat, Seteth noticed a slight trembling in the mercenary’s shoulders. The man placing his elbows down upon his desk, fingers interlocking and placed in front of his mouth, as a solemn look graced his rough features.

_Ah, good! He is taking this offence to Flayn’s dignity as harshly as I am!_

Seteth thought to himself in glee as he nodded to himself. The picture of himself and his new ally bringing forth rightful admonishment upon the insolent young man forming in his mind…

“Snrk”

…Until the muffled but distinct sound of a snicker rang out into the room. Immediately shattering the glorious picture he had just formulated in his mind’s eye.

“Did… did you just laugh!?” Seteh questioned in disbelief.

His mouth now uncovered after being called out, the clear sight of Jeralt’s face crinkling in a far too amused manner filled Seteth’s vision.

“Ha! Byleth…. Heh… Flirting… just the picture of it… heh!” Jeralt wheezed out in jubilation, each word interrupted by a burst of genuine laugher. Seteth could only stare slack-jawed as the man pounded his fist in the desk as he tried in vain to control his breathing.

“Jeralt I’m trying to be serious here!” Seteth yelled out, as he felt flustered at the unheard of sight playing out in front of him.

“Ah, ha-ha-ha!” Jeralt ignored him, tears welling in his eyes as the all too ridiculous image of his stoic son trying to woo a woman, bundle of flowers in hand. “And they say you don’t have a sense of humor! Ha!”

“I insist that you compose yourself immediately! So, we can discuss this matter seriously!” Seteth tried once more to get former Captain to control himself.

His attempt failed, as the mercenary fought a losing battle against another scenario of Byleth, cup of tea in hand, as he whispered sweet nothings to some random lass in his mind. The absurdity of it sending another bout of fresh laughter surging out of his mouth.

“…Apologies, am I interrupting something?” A third voice suddenly made itself known.

The two occupants in the room turned their heads in the direction of the new voice. Only to see the well-mannered countenance of Hanneman standing in the door way. The sound of his entrance left unnoticed by the two.

“Not at all Professor.” Jeralt said, coughing into his fist to let the last vestiges of laughter die away. “I was merely lending my ear to Seteth here, because he had some… concerns that he wished to share with me.”

The reminder of said “concerns” almost made another flow of laughter seep from his lips, but he managed to suppress it. But not enough to hide the small smile made its way onto his face, the sight of which was not unnoticed by the other two. Leading to the former nobleman to show a look of curiosity, while the other glowered as he took his seat once more.

“Indeed. Sir Eisner has been an invaluable asset from the moment he has stepped foot here once more.” Seteth said, his normal dignified air once more surrounding him. “Being an excellent listener is no doubt one of his many talents.”

The smile on his face stiffened at that the somewhat undeserved praise giving him an odd sense of foreboding.

_Please Goddess, tell me this is not going in the direction I think it’s going._

“Is that so?” Hanneman said, hand on his chin as he was clearly considering something that Jeralt _really_ didn’t want him to consider. “Well if that is the case then-“

Jeralt sighed in resignation, grabbing a clipboard from his desk, and writing the word “Appointments” swiftly at the top of the sheet, then handing it to Hanneman.

“Just jot down a time convenient for you and I’ll see if I can make some space on my calendar.” Jeralt said begrudgingly. Cursing the Goddess once more for forsaking him in his time of petty need.

“Ah, I see you’re quite astute to guess my intentions so readily! I’ll gladly take your offer then.” Hanneman said as he all too graciously took the clipboard in hand. Signing his name and marking down the times as requested.

Jeralt took the clipboard back with a pinch of his fingers with revulsion. Though he couldn’t help the slight raise of the eyebrow at the elaborate and clearly well practiced handwriting that now adorned it.

“So, you mind me asking for a heads up on what you’d like to talk about in our little pow-wow?” Jeralt asked the question casually, but the probe was more to get a feel for the well-dressed man that had made his acquaintance.

He didn’t know Hanneman very well at all, other than the small tidbits that passed into his ear from the short introduction made upon his return. A former noble who gave up his title, and came to work in Garreg Mach soon after the former Captain made his departure.

A man whose entire life seemed to revolve around Crests. A skilled mage with a surprising degree of aptitude with a bow as well. The latter skill only making itself known when a student with a rare crest made an ill-thought out bet with the Professor in exchange for its examination.

He managed to gleam a lot about the man’s position, history, and talents. But little about the man himself.

But more importantly, he needed to know why Rhea would want such a man among her devoted Church’s ranks.

“Well, I’m glad you asked!” Hanneman’s face shifted to a sterner expression. Jeralt’s muscles tightened in preparation for what the Crest researcher was about to divulge.

“That Manuela has gone too far I tell you! As I was walking here I had the displeasure of witnessing her drop a sandwich onto the ground, pick it up, and take a bite out of it!”

The tension within Jeralt instantly disappeared at that. He shot a brief look at Seteth only to find the man pretending to be admiring the adornments on the quarter’s walls.

_Man, the Church must have really set the bar low for recruitment after I left…_

Jeralt thought to himself, suddenly understanding how the miracle of Alois’ rise through the ranks came to be.

“3 second rule my well-groomed…” Hanneman shook his head in disgust, hands idly smoothing out the creases on his jacket. “My many grievances with that avatar of ill-manners aside, I was primarily approaching you to learn more about your son.”

_Annnd _the tension was back once more for the old mercenary. The constant whiplash in these conversations were seriously taking their toll on his sanity.

“My son you say?” Jeralt said with narrowed eyes. Pretending not to notice the fact that Seteth was clearly paying more attention now. “…So, you’re saying that there was something that caught your interest?”

“Why indeed!” Hanneman said with glee, clearly not noticing the tenser air that eeked its way into the room. “Your son is a most perturbatory figure I must say. I ask the boy a question, and his answers leave me two more to take its place! An endless repository of mystery that one.”

“Hold on a sec.” Jeralt said, his hand plastered on his face in disbelief. “You’re telling me _Byleth_ actually bothered to hold a conversation with you?”

“Most assuredly, he was quite engaged in fact.” Hanneman nodded. “Though his words were admittedly few, he proved to be rather astute. Though he was largely ignorant of the subject matter, my did he pick up on things quickly!"

“You’re sure about that?” Jeralt asked with a voice overflowing with skepticism.

“Most assuredly.” Hanneman replied with no falsehood in his words.

“And you’re sure you weren’t just dreaming this?” Jeralt asked again, unable to grasp the truth despite the professor’s sincerity.

“I am most sure of that.” Hanneman said, before giving the merc an odd look. “Is my capability to remain awake difficult to believe?”

“That’s not exactly the thing I found hard to believe?” Jeralt mumbled, before raising his voice to ask another question. “And how long did this “conversation” last exactly?”

“Oh my, we engaged in such fruitful discourse that I had lost track of time.” Hanneman answered, but tilted his head as he tried to remember the moment. “But it must have been hours at the least, for sunset had happened upon us before we knew it!”

Jeralt could only sit there stunned as he tried to envision the absolute horror of his son standing there and indulging the Crest obsessed man for hours at a time.

Though Seteth would never admit it, he too felt the briefest ping of empathy for the new professor, shivering at the sheer willpower one needed to have to survive that trial.

“Yes, he was such a great subject of study, the boy even consented to a blood sample for my research immediately upon my broaching of the subject.” Hanneman stated proudly.

“He did what?” The two voices overlapping voices of Jeralt and Seteth echoed out.

“He volunteered a blood sample, after I requested it for further research into his all too unique Crest.” Hanneman replied, before directing a pointed look in Seteth’s direction. “Unlike _some people _he clearly has a much deeper appreciation of the academic pursuit of knowledge.”

Seteth merely glared back at the gentleman, while Jeralt mentally admonished his son for freely giving out a sample of his own blood to a man he had _just _met.

“Well now, in light of this revelation, it seems like I need to pay my son a visit to give some much-needed advisement on avoiding strangers.” Jeralt said as he started to excuse himself from the room.

“Ah yes, a sad but necessary lesson that must be learnt.” Said stranger that needed to be avoided replied sagely. “A most unfortunate need in today’s world.”

Jeralt stopped himself from making the obvious, but very tempting retort at that.

“Then, I guess I’ll be seeing you two at a later date. Try not to make a mess of the room, it’s still on loan.” Jeralt said with as much politeness as he could muster, as he gave a curt goodbye to the other two Church staff. The door closing before the two could respond in kind.

The silence was culpable as the two men took a moment to register that they had just been ditched.

“A bit rough around the edges that one?” Hanneman said, though not particularly offended by the swift departure.

“That’s one way to describe him.” Seteth said diplomatically. “But enough of that, may I ask you something?”

“Oh my, how unexpected. For me to be on the receiving end of an inquest from you.” Hanneman said his polite tone poorly hiding the sarcasm laced in his words. “Has the Goddess finally graced this land once more?”

“Yes, such miracles seem to be ever more common these last few days” Seteth grumbled, shaking his head before looking seriously at the professor. “Be that as it may, knowing your character I assume you have been looking into our new arrivals yes?”

Hanneman nodded in confirmation just as he had expected, but his eyes narrowed in consternation. The well-groomed man rested his chin upon his hand head tilted in an expression of puzzlement.

“Indeed, I have. But I must admit I have not been making as much headway as I would have liked.” Hanneman said with a huff of frustration. “The pair have proven to be quite a most enigmatic duo to say the least. “

He then stopped for a moment, as his countenance visibly brightened, lips curling into a smile as the gears in his head turned in happy curiosity.

“Especially the young Byleth, a good number of mercenaries I’ve interviewed so far didn’t even recognize the name. Much less know that he was Jeralt’s son surprisingly enough.” He said cheerily despite himself. “Why you would think he was from another world entirely with how little details about him I can scrounge up!”

“That is not exactly pleasing news you know?” Seteth sighed, unwilling to admit his own investigations on the mysterious lad was just as fruitless so far. “The two are father and son are they not? Physical differences aside, the two have supposedly worked alongside each other in the mercenary trade for years. How can one be recognized but the other left in virtual anonymity?”

Hanneman simply shrugged in response, the lackadaisical gesture only piling more fuel upon Seteth’s growing ire.

“My investigation is merely in its infancy, so apologies if my current offerings are found wanting.” Hanneman said mildly. “In all likelihood they were likely ignorant of the relation simply because Jeralt isn’t the most forthcomings sort, and the young man is not all that sociable. It wouldn’t be beyond question for most to assume the lad an apprentice of his rather his offspring.”

The answer wasn’t what Seteth wanted to hear, but it sounded reasonable enough. Just from what little he learned so far it seemed like Jeralt was hellbent on obscuring the fact that the two were related for whatever reason. So, it made sense that the mercenaries who had accompanied the pair would not be privy to much insight.

“Although…” Hanneman tilted his head once more, pausing as he considered if he should share the next detail.

“Although?” Seteth asked, pushing him to go on. Not liking the sudden unwillingness to share from a man usually all too eager to talk a person’s ears off.

“Well you see, while the name “Byleth Eisner” has yet to ring many bells, I have heard some rather ominous stories in regards to an individual who allegedly accompanies Jeralt…” Hanneman said with some reluctance. “While still unclear as of now, if said individual and our new professor are one and the same, the implications could be somewhat…worrying to say the least.”

“Well spit it out professor.” Seteth said, not liking the turn the conversation has taken. “What stories could possibly have been a cause of concern for a man like yourself?”

Hanneman gave a grim smile at that, and said in a voice just above a whisper.

“They say wherever the Blade Breaker treads, a _Demon _follows in his footsteps…”

O.O.O.O

The monastery was deathly quiet as Jeralt made his way to the dormitories. The well-worn ground giving way to his hefty steps giving him a feeling of nostalgia in spite of himself. Other than the distant steps of the patrolling guards, the silence of Garreg Mach was oddly soothing.

His son’s room was only a walk from the building where the Captain’s Quarters were situated. Given a room near the students, presumably to make himself more accessible to them. Or to open up some bonding opportunities for the new professor to be closer to his students due to their (supposed) close ages.

Jeralt scoffed internally at the mere thought of that. It was one of the reasons why he was half-convinced Rhea had gone mad. Disregarding the other ones that are best left unsaid…

Sure, a professor didn’t necessarily need to be a social butterfly. Hell, maintaining a barrier between teacher and students was the norm after-all. But they still needed a good degree of social skills and knowledge of the world to properly be able to teach a bunch of noble brats who care far too much for both.

So, having his kid be the teacher for said brats when he was distinctly lacking in both areas was just confusing no matter how you looked at it.

His reverie was interrupted as the sight of the dormitories came into view. The right-most room on the first floor had the distinct glimmer of candlelight seeping through the undercut of the door.

_Ah good, he’s still awake_.

Jeralt thought to himself, not at all surprised that his child was still up at this time in the night.

He walked up to the door, not bothering to knock as he grasped the handle and made his way inside.

“Hey kid, I know I told you to play nice for now, but we _really_ gotta talk about what’s appropriate to give to stran- “Jeralt said as he opened the door but found himself unable to finish the sentence. Eyes widening at the sight he found inside.

There his son was blank faced as usual, the kid blinking in what he long recognized as a sign of curiosity. But what drew his attention was the other elements that occupied the rather plain room.

His son was seated in a chair facing the doorway, leg crossed over the other, and what seemed to be a rather ornate teacup in his hand. A rounded table rested in front of him, with a similarly ornate teapot laying upon it, as well as a few pieces of desert foods layered upon a plate.

The sight of the furnishings alone was out of place in the typically spartan living quarters of his son. With Jeralt having no idea where they actually came from considering he visited his kid just that morning, and he had no recollection of such an arrangement. But what really caught the mercenary’s attention was the last oddity in the room, in more ways than one.

A tea cup raised to her lips, the white-haired girl that occupied the other chair turned her head his way. Pink eyes widened in shock at the sudden entrance of the man.

_Uhhhhhh_

Was about the most Jeralt’s brain could come up with at the moment. The picture confronting him being too far beyond his comprehension to understand.

Byleth. Tea. Girl. Night. Bedroom. Snacks.

Tea. Girl. Snacks. Byleth. Bedroom. Night.

The words were flowing into his mind but no matter how he arranged them he just could not fit them together in a way that made sense with his version of reality. The puzzle pieces slotting together in his mind eventually managed to form what should have been an obvious conclusion. Despite the very idea being anathema to everything he thought was common sense until then.

Byleth was having tea and snacks with a girl in his bedroom at night.

_Byleth. _

The picture that he had envisioned as a jest in his conversation with Seteth came back to haunt him as absurd reality. Truly the Goddess had an awful sense of humor.

“Ca-Captain Eisner!” The girl exclaims as she seemed to get over her initial shock. Jeralt’s eyes zipped to her as his mind refocused itself. “W-what are you doing here?”

_That uniform… is she one of the brats he’s teaching?_

Jeralt wonders as he recognizes the distinct uniform of the Officer’s Academy on the unexpected guest’s person.

“No need for the formalities. I’m not a captain anymore girl.” Jeralt managed to say, mustering what little composure he had. “Jeralt is just fine. But never mind that, shouldn’t I be the one asking that question?”

The girl looked confused at the question at the moment, before looking down at the cup laced between her slim fingers. She takes a glance over at Byleth who is calmly sipping at his tea, and back at her own, before her neck audibly snapped back up at Jeralt. Eyes widening even further in realization like a doe staring at an incoming fireball.

“T-this isn’t what it looks like I assure you!” The girl shouts out, making the former captain wince a bit at the volume. “Nothing scandalous is happening at all!”

Jeralt turned his attention to his nonplussed son, who was still the peak of calm as his guest continued to freak out next to him. Stammering all sorts of mutterings about how there should be no misunderstandings and the like.

“So, is the kid telling the truth? Is this not what it looks like?” Jeralt said, ignoring the sudden and intense death glare he felt homing in on him after the word “kid” left his mouth.

_Someone is touchy about their age_.

Byleth merely shrugged in response.

“That kind of depends on what this looks like to begin with?” He said dryly as he reached for a small brownie.

“Well correct me if I’m wrong kid but it looks like you invited a girl into your bedroom for some teatime late at night.” Jeralt replied as concisely as he could. Knowing it was best just to cut to the point when dealing with the boy.

There was a moment of silence as he took his time to chew on the brownie. Wiping off his mouth with a napkin, before giving a single blink of his eyes.

“Then it’s exactly what it looks like.” He said with another shrug of his shoulders. Before taking another sip of tea to wash down the brownie. “Do you want some tea Jeralt?”

Jeralt could have sworn he had heard the distinct sound of a palm slamming upon a face in exasperation echo in the room at that moment. Though he had no idea where the sound could have come from.

“Professor!” The girl said as she gaped at the man. “That isn’t what you were supposed to say!”

“What?” The man asked as his eye narrowed ever so slightly in confusion. “Tea is supposed to be shared right?”

“That’s not what I meant!” The girl said, palm pressed on her temple as she tried to find the right words. “Context! The man needs context!”

Jeralt merely sighed as he watched the girl try in vain to have the stonewall that was his son understand what she was trying to say. And he couldn’t help but feel a slight bit of admiration for the girl for attempting the impossible.

“That’s enough.” Jeralt cut in before the girl could get too wound up about it. “No need to get fussy about it, girl. I can already tell nothing _“scandalous”_ is going on here.”

“Really?” The girl replied a bit skeptically. Her body language clearly showing the telltale signs of disbelief.

“Trust me, while I admit I wasn’t expecting this kind of sight this late at night, I know my own kid.” Jeralt said with a curl of his lips. “You don’t need to worry about explaining the details.”

Yes, while the ridiculous sight of his son actually having tea with a girl in his room did shock him. He knew his kid well enough that the event was rather innocuous in nature. That was just how his child was.

“I’m still not really sure what’s going on, but I can tell it’s none of my business.” Jeralt said tersely. “Just don’t linger for too long lest someone else barges in and gets the wrong idea. Understood?”

The two occupants nodded in response, the girl’s more earnest shakes in her head belying her dread at the very thought.

“Good.” He pointed a look at his son. “We’ll talk more tomorrow morning, so try not to stay up too long alright?”

With that he left the room knowing there was no point in waiting for a response. His hand grasping the knob and closing the door gently on his way out.

“Honestly, this really has been one surprise after another…” Jeralt muttered to himself, as he started making his way to his own living quarters. The moonlight shining down to lighten his way.

As much of a shock as it had been to his son inviting someone to tea in his room. And a girl no less! He was actually a bit happy to see the sight.

His son had little in the way of friends, or even anyone to call an acquaintance besides himself over the years. So, while it was a sudden development, to see his son actually interacting with another human being did warm his heart. The worries he had about the boy’s ability to handle his new position alleviated ever so slightly.

“Still, I wonder what about that girl caught his attention…” Jeralt mumbled out loud.

He was under no illusions that the interaction was anything but innocent. While the dreaded tea party from his imagination has come to pass, the idea of Byleth suddenly becoming a flirt was still beyond impossible.

Slightly more sociable or not, you would sooner see the King of Liberation come back from the dead than see his son take a romantic interest in someone!

“Although…” Jeralt whispered to himself, weighing his options in his mind.

Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give him the ring a bit early…

Just in case.

O.O.O.O

“Whew” A breath of relief spilled out of the white-haired girl’s lips, as she pressed her hand against her chest. Willing her rapidly beating heart to slow itself after the fright it just endured.

Lysithea von Ordelia was not one to give way to base panic so easily. Or at least that’s what she told herself. But the unexpected entrance of the former captain of the Knights of Serios practically gave her a heart attack.

Especially considering since said former captain happened to be the father of the man she happened to be socializing with at the moment.

Over tea.

In his bedroom.

After-dark.

So, given those circumstances she felt it was forgivable for someone of her standing to indulge in some good old-fashioned panic.

Once her heart got to a tolerable pace she took a moment to glance, or rather glare, at the other occupant of the room.

Her new professor and the source of her most recent, and _absolutely _justified, panic attack, Byleth Eisner. The dark-haired youth sat opposite from her, his face ever so _infuriatingly _calm despite the recent scare she endured. The son of the Blade Breaker, a mercenary by trade prior to his appointment as a teacher.

She had no idea what to think about him honestly. His relevance in her life changed from “Somewhat intriguing man who saved our House leaders from bandits” to “Hey I’m your professor now, I’ll be teaching you everything you need to know for the next year or so. Okay thanks!” in a blink of an eye.

Okay, that last bit wasn’t _quite_ in character she had to admit, but the point is made that it was a rather startling development.

It had only been a few days since he was formally introduced as their professor, and frankly she had not learned much more about him than what little he mentioned in his greetings. Where he came from, his family, or even something as basic as his age seemed oddly obscure.

Despite that, she had to admit he was a surprisingly adept teacher just from the few days they had spent under his tutelage. His words were few, but he had a strange knack at delving into and dissecting the material while only conveying the crucial information. Cutting away the fluff that made digging through the textbooks such a bore, and getting to the parts relevant to them.

She was unsure at first of his suitability for his supposed role, but that was pretty quickly softened, if not completely alleviated, when he answered a few choice leading questions from her in a concise and to the point manner.

It was a bit petty of her, but she felt like she had an obligation to test his mettle if he were to be her teacher, and he passed. For now.

“…Is something the matter?”

The sudden question breaks her out of her reverie, and she realized that she was silently maintaining her glare for the past minute or so.

“Nothing.” She said with a small cough to cover up her embarrassment. “I was, uh, just wondering why you refer to your father by his given name?”

It was a question mostly asked just to fill in the silence, but she was genuinely curious about it as well. Her eyes narrowing when the immediate response to her query was a non-committal shrug.

“That’s just how it has always been.” Byleth said, his face ever unchanging in its expression. “Jeralt is Jeralt.”

“You do realize that isn’t exactly normal right?” Lysithea asked, though she already knew the answer. Everything about this man screamed of abnormality to begin with. “Forgive me for saying this, but many of us assumed the two of you were on poor terms given how you seem to distance yourselves from one another.”

A blink of the eyes in response. While she hasn’t interacted with him for too long, she had picked up on that being a sign of confusion from him. Or at least a sign he was actually contemplating what you were saying, given it was one of the few visual cues he bothered to provide.

“How so?” He asks after a moment of thought.

“While I can tell now that you are fairly close, the way you refer to each other gives the opposite impression. Even those who are on unpleasant terms with their parent will still call them father.” She said with earnest curiosity. “I mean, even when you first introduced yourself, you only gave your name as “Byleth” and made no mention of your family name.”

“Ah, I see.” Her professor nodded in understanding.

A clink on the table was all that followed as he set his teacup down. Lysithea waiting for a moment in the silence, until realizing that further elaboration wasn’t going to be happening.

“Would you mind elaborating on that?” Lysithea asked with a slightly confrontational tone. Her eyes narrowing at the lack of engagement.

“I would indeed mind.” He said curtly.

“Oh, Is that so?” She asked, unable to help feeling miffed at the sudden roadblock. “Could it be that I’ve stumbled upon a topic my Professor doesn’t want to talk about?”

The two eyed each other for a moment, the challenge clearly made and now accepted.

“Hmm, I wonder about that.” Byleth says slowly after the brief pause. “It might just be as lucrative a topic as the rumored specter moaning through the dormitory halls at night...”

“Ack!” Lysithea recoiled from the sharp reminder of the embarrassment she had suffered prior to the current get together.

This whole rendezvous in the Professor’s room came about after Lysithea went out at night to retrieve a notebook she had forgotten in the cafeteria. Stumbling upon the teacher wandering out in the night, with her asking him to accompany her for completely practical reasons. _Not _out of some supposed fear of ghosts or anything like that, nope, nothing of the sort.

After retrieving the notebook, she had bid her farewells to the man and that would have been that.

…Had it not been for her shrieking after mistaking the silhouette of a shrubbery for a being from beyond the grave. Alerting the patrolling guards and leading her to rush back to her professor in order to shelter her from the much greater embarrassment of having to explain herself to the monastery’s security.

In her defense, it was a particularly _intimidating _shrubbery. Truly the one who trimmed its greens was a horrible bundle of malicious intent.

_Ugh, that was a low blow._

She thought to herself, as she glared back at her verbal opponent in response to the unexpected parry. The thrust towards her (non-existent!) weakness was as good of a sign not to pry as any.

“Alright. The point is made, no need for us to delve into topics that need no delving.” She said, a bead of cold sweat trailing down her face.

She resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn’t get an answer from him on that element of his history. But made a mental note to have another go at it at a later date if she got the opportunity. It was her persistence that got her to where she was now after-all.

His expression was still as blank as ever but she could have sworn she could just _feel_ an aura of smugness radiating off of him.

_I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that I need to prevent the Professor and Claude from interacting with each other with all my power._

“Then we have an accord.” Byleth says, with a nod of his head, but his head then tilts as if he just recalled something. His head snapping back to its original position in what could be interpreted as an “aha!” gesture. “With that said, there was another subject I wished to broach to you.”

“Oh?” Lysithea said, internally grateful that the conversation had steered in a different direction. “And what might that be?”

“Magic.” He said, the single word causing the white-haired girl to go stiff. “You seem quite adept at it.”

“And here I thought you were different than the rest…” She murmured to herself, as she tried to suppress the cold chill of disappointment arising within her.

“Pardon?” He says with a blink not quite hearing the whisper that eeked out of her lips.

“It’s nothing.” She said loud enough to be heard, her demeanor shifting to be much more guarded. “What of it?”

The change in her countenance was seemingly left without notice by the man, as he simply nodded his head in response.

“It is evident you are an expert in the craft. I have seen the impressive amount of time and effort you devote to the study of magic and its usages.”

“Pointless adulation will get you nowhere.” She said with a huff, but she still felt a twinge of joy at the praise in spite of herself. Happy that her hard work was noticed in so short of a time.

“So, I must ask. Will you teach me?” He asked

“You want me to what now?” Her previous obstinate attitude now completely broken, upon hearing the unexpected request.

“Will you teach me? Magic that is.” He repeats himself.

“Yes, I understood as much.” She said with her palm on her temple as she tried in vain to comprehend the man before her. “But what I mean to inquire as to _why _you would need _me_ to tutor you in that subject?”

“Is it not obvious?” He said as if it were just common sense. If it were anyone else, she would have sworn the look he gave her was one that signaled out “Are you an idiot?” But given the person it was more than likely a sincere question.

The temptation to lunge over the table and throttle him was still very much there though.

“Humor me.” Lysithea said as she suppressed the urge to assault her professor. Doing so might have a negative impact on her grades after-all.

“Well as I said, you have proven yourself to be a protégé in the subject. Diligent, resourceful, and clearly driven to succeed.” He said nonchalantly. Not noticing the girl idly twirling the strands of her hair to pretend that she wasn’t flattered by him laying on another layer of praise. “However, I myself have little experience in the field of magic. Except in my encounters fighting mages. Thus, I find myself solely wanting in the capability to teach others.”

“Ah, so what you implying is that you want me to teach you magic so that you may be better suited to instructing the others on it?” She said as understanding dawned on her, receiving a shallow nod in response.

She took a moment to consider the idea, quickly stumbling upon a discrepancy in the logic.

“Well, be that as it may. I am still merely a student here; would it not be better to seek a fellow teacher for guidance?” She questioned with her arms crossed in front of her. One eyebrow raised as she tried to poked her first hole into the request. “Would Professor Hanneman not be a perfect choice for this instead?”

Byleth turned his head to the side in response to the question. The gesture seeming to be one that was meant to hide some level of embarrassment, though his face was not flushed in the least bit to indicate such.

“…I discovered some of strands of my hair that I don’t recall giving him in his room.” He said with as neutral of a voice as ever. But it still somehow managed to convey a vestige of his unease about the unfortunate discovery.

“No need to say any more. I completely understand.” Lysithea responded with a wince of sympathy. Knowing all too well what odd behaviors the researcher would exhibit when a new subject of study entered his sights.

Her spine still tingled a bit when she felt anyone focusing their stares on her. The newfound sixth sense being a result of Hanneman and his creepy observations of her when he thought she wasn’t looking…

“Still, I must ask again. Why me?” She questioned once more, still suspicious that his true intentions were focused on _that_ element of her. “There are quite a few other candidates in our class skilled in magic. Annette had graduated top of her class from the Royal School of Sorcery, and I hear that vampire Hubert is rather talented in the craft himself.”

“I wasn’t aware that he was a vampire.” Byleth said with narrowed eyes. “He neglected to mention that in his application to the school. I’ll be sure to talk to him later about that omission.”

Lysithea honestly could not tell if he was jesting or not. But decided it would probably be best not to correct whatever impression he got from her joke. She got the feeling Hubert probably deserved what was coming to him anyways.

“Undocumented hemovores aside.” Byleth continued on without missing a beat. “The others have their skills. But you are the only one that I need.”

Any normal individual probably would have interpreted that last statement as flirtatious, or at least complementary enough to make one blush. The line was nigh guaranteed to be on the Sylvain’s unofficial list of heart stealing (your mileage may vary) pick-up lines.

Lysithea was not a normal individual. The idea of it being flirty had not even crossed her thoughts at all. No, that statement in her mind could only be one thing, and one thing only.

Her fist clenched, nails biting into her palm to the point of almost drawing blood. Her head bowed to the point where her hair obscured her pink eyes from view, as the sound of her teeth grinding from barely contained indignation resounded in the small space.

“I knew it! I never should have thought that were any different from any of the rest of them!” She shouts out, her gaze blazing as she jolts upright, the chair she was seated in screeching across the floor as it is pushed back from the force.

“I beg your pardon?” Byleth said, face stoic as ever but internally rather concerned about the amount of noise his student was making with her shouting.

“Don’t play coy with me!” She says harshly, an accusatory finger pointed toward him. “The only reason you need me is because of my two Crests!”

Byleth blinked at that.

“Oh.” The young professor then thumbed his cheek as he shot a curious look at her. “…Is having two Crests special?”

Lysithea’s righteous anger instantly shriveled up and died at that question. Her eye started twitching at a rapid pace, as she tried to understand how he had the gall to even ask her that.

“A-are you seriously asking me that question?” She sputters out, her bafflement solid enough to grasp.

“Well, yes.” Byleth said with a nod of confirmation. “I know now that Crests are apparently important, so naturally more than one should be special no?”

“It isn’t just _special_, having two Crests is outright _impossible_!” She cries out in exasperation.

“If it is impossible, then why did you say you have two then?” Her teacher asked with a tilt of his head in befuddlement.

“Why did _I _say I have two? _You _were the one who-“ Lysithea paused mid-sentence as she began to realize just how badly she just shoved her own foot into her mouth.

_Ah crap._ _I was the one who said that…_

She internally cursed her poor habit of jumping to conclusions, realizing that her professor truly had not known about her two Crests until she herself had told him about their existence. With his comments on his own ignorance on the subject only furthering her own embarrassment.

So Lysithea did what any other dignified individual from a Noble Household would do in her position.

“Well, I must commend you for your silver tongue my teacher. To so cleverly pry my secrets out in the open as if it were of my own volition to speak of them. Truly you are a master of the spoken word.”

That being to blatantly ignore her own failings and make it look like it was all the other party’s doing. Guaranteed to work 9 times out of 10. Unless your name was Lorenz, which would then drop it down to a paltry 3.

“Utilizing your relative lack of knowledge of Crests not only to push me into a position to accept your terms, but also gain further insight into the mystery of Crests themselves… You are certainly a force to be reckoned with Professor.” She said with an air of confidence and was not at all at risk of collapsing from sheer embarrassment.

Byleth was about to mention how that was an awful lot of words being put into his mouth. But decided against it when he noticed her quiet shaking, and decided to spare his student from any further self-induced humiliation.

“So, I take that to mean you agree to teaching me magic?” Byleth prods her, as he too stands up from his seat to engage with her at eye-level. Well a tilted downward variation of eye-level given the height difference. 

“I suppose I have to at this point…” She grumbles with her arms crossed.

Then a sudden flash of inspiration causes an idea to cross her mind. A slightly smug smirk begins to spread across her face.

“BUT!” Lysithea says with a finger wave back and forth in the air. “I’ll only do it if I get something in return.”

Byleth gives a firm nod of approval at that, it was only natural for a mercenary like him to understand that sort of mentality. Quid pro quo and all that was the name of the game his entire life.

“You know my deepest and darkest secret. So, it is only fair that you share one of yours with me.” She says with a smile that starts to veer into the sadistic. “Equivalent exchange, my dear teacher.”

“…That does make sense.” Byleth begins slowly, but his face ever so slightly contorts to make an expression that might have been sheepishness. “But unfortunately, I don’t really have any secrets to give.”

To say the drop of a pin could have been heard in the room at that moment, wouldn’t have been able to give justice to the depth of silence that engulfed it. With Lysithea simply incapable of being able to dignify that ridiculous statement with a response.

_“Bull. Shit.” _

Okay, so she was able to come up with a not-so dignified, but certainly appropriate, response after-all.

“I’m sorry?” Byleth said, not at all expecting the curse that came out of the young Ordelia’s mouth.

“Professor. No offense is intended here.” Lysithea began with as much patience as she could muster. “But as short of a time as it may be that I’ve known you, you are single-handedly the most mysterious and secretive person I have known in my entire life.”

Byleth raised a finger about to protest that assertion.

“And mind you, I have _Claude_, as my House leader. Who could be comfortably described as an enigma wrapped up in a riddle, wrapped in a puzzle box, and entwined into one very punch-able package.”

Byleth lowered the finger to concede the point.

“I am sorry to betray your expectations, but I don’t really know what I can tell you that can be called a secr-“ Byleth paused for a moment, as an idea crossed his mind.

His eyes closed, and he tapped his temple in a clear gesture of contemplation. While Lysithea tapped a foot as she waited for him to finish.

After a minute or two his eyes finally opened, and he nodded as if making an affirmation to some unseen someone.

“Well, have you decided which of your secrets you deign to bless me with?” Lysithea asked. Her exterior brimming with a confidence that verged on arrogance. But internally she worried if she wasn’t pushing her luck with this venture that she admittedly only started to save some face.

“It isn’t something that I think is a secret per say.” Byleth says as he begins to walk towards her. “But I think it can be considered to be a secret of a sort.”

Lysithea raised a confused eyebrow as he stops to stand right before her, with but a mere two feet between the two.

“Press your ear against my chest.” Byleth says with as dry of a voice as ever.

“Excuse me?” Lysithea says, not really sure if she heard him correctly. Too confused at the mixture of words to scrounge up any more indignation. “…Is this some roundabout form of harassment?”

“Not at all.” He says with a shake of the head. “But for this “secret” it is a case where showing is better than telling.

Lysithea was torn between the insanity that was to acquiesce to the request, or decking the man her grades be damned.

While the latter option was _very _tempting, she instead took a step forward, sighing heavily whilst she did so. Stopping before him, and lifting herself on the tips of her toes so that her head could reach the height of his chest.

_There must be something seriously wrong with me to even consider this madness…_

She thinks to herself, feeling the heat begin to rise in her cheeks and the tips of her ears as she closes her eyes. Her head drifting ever so slowly closer to the torso, before resting itself gently against the surprisingly firm chest.

She stood there, steaming from embarrassment at the situation she stumbled her way into, wondering if she shouldn’t reconsider the decking option she had forsaken but a moment before.

A good minute or two passed, with the gentle rise and fall of her professor’s chest being the only sensation she felt. Her frustration growing with each passing second as she seriously began to wonder if he was only having her do this to further humiliate her.

_I don’t get it! What am I even doing this for! I can’t even hear anyth-_

Her snapped open as she realized what she was meant to be listening for, or rather the _absence _of that which she should have been hearing.

That’s right for the past few minutes, ear strenuously pressed against the man’s chest for any noise, she had heard nothing.

Nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jeralt, don't you love Jeralt? The name of the chapter should be a good indication, but I'm going to be milking Jeralt being Garreg Mach's local shrink as much as I can get away with it. Goddess knows they need one.
> 
> So some fun facts about this chapter.
> 
> 1) It was originally only 2000 words. It got expanded a tad from the original draft.
> 
> 2) The teatime chapter was originally going to be either chapter 4 or 5 of this story. But it was moved up after I looked at some reviews on fanfiction.net, and thought it would be convenient to move the timetable up.
> 
> 3) The tea time partner was initially going to be Edelgard for reasons that should be obvious. But as I was writing the chapter the idea of Lysithea being the first student Confidant for Byelth grew on me for certain reasons. The more I thought about the kind of dynamic I wanted the students to have with Byleth, and between each other, the more natural of a choice Lysithea ended up becoming. 
> 
> 4) And speaking of Lysithea, originally Sothis was going to be messing around with her a bit by moving things in the room. While it was a fun idea, I thought it didn't make much sense at that point for Sothis to be capable of interacting with the world physically at that point in the narrative. So it was unfortunately scrapped. 
> 
> So yes, it will be a little bit of time before the next chapter comes out. The current plan is to put more focus on the dynamic between the students now that the Houses are combined. But we'll see how that works out. 
> 
> And if you have any ideas of your own about possible chapters feel free to share, and I will gladly credit you for it. It doesn't have to be anything super well thought out, since my own notes for this story isn't exactly cerebral. Stuff like "Hubert third-wheeler" or "Improvised cake weaponry" is what is scribbled in my notebook at the moment.


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